


Triumvirate

by AzureLightningEmeraldCloud



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark Siphon, F/F, F/M, Hope Mikaelson deserves a hug, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Powerful Freya, Powerful Hope, i accidently killed of dorian in the first chapter, or at least strongly implied he was dead, read the comments on chapter 14 to see how that came about, sorry dorian fans..., which is the ship name for Penelope Park/Lizzie Saltzman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-08-29 02:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16735752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureLightningEmeraldCloud/pseuds/AzureLightningEmeraldCloud
Summary: Hope is trying to come to terms with her proclivity for violence. Josie is trying to reconfigure the pieces of her shattered heart. Lizzie is trying to come to terms with her unconquerable rages. Perhaps together they can become something stronger.Josie, Lizzie, and Hope will not just be a legacy of their previous generation, a footnote in history.They will become Legend.This may get sapphic...just saying.The characters herein do not belong to me in any way, but to the CW and respective people who work there and own the copyrights. Certainly not me.





	1. An Apology

Triumvirate

Chapter 1

 

“I’m sorry. About the other day. You were right to be mad about the gargoyle fight. Alaric shouldn’t have endangered himself like that. Not for me.”

            Hope was standing in the threshold of Saltzman Twins’ room; she wasn’t quite inside or outside. Even now Hope was in between, neither here nor there.

            Lizzie Saltzman was elsewhere, probably antagonizing Josie’s ex Penelope out of some misplaced sense of chivalry...or trying to get into Raphael’s pants.

Josie Saltzman however, was lying on her bed, book set aside. She couldn’t quite meet Hope’s piercing gaze, but she did manage to say, “I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I don’t want you dead. I really don’t, and I know how I sounded. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

            Hope scoffed, but it sounded more weary than cocky. Josie’s eyes rose to meet Hope’s in surprise, but only for a second before she dropped them again. Hope acknowledged the awkward moment with a forced chuckle. Her hands absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of her burgundy shirt. Josie picked up her book and set it on the bedside table next to the stack of manga she had glamoured to look like Jane Austen novels.

Hope let the silence continue until a darker thought went through her mind and spoke it aloud almost despite herself, “I should’ve been quicker with that gargoyle. My aunt Freya could’ve killed that thing with a flick of her wrist on a _bad_ day…I need to learn to stop pulling my punches before someone else I care about dies because of me. Goodnight Josie.”

            Hope was gone from Josie’s room before the latter could articulate a proper response.

            Josie took a deep breath before she reached up and shut the lamp off. Hope just apologized. She apologized for something that Josie knew wasn’t the red-haired girl’s fault. Josie berated herself for not being quicker to reassure the girl she’d known since they were both seven years old.

            Hope might as well have apologized for existing, for being somehow _unworthy_ of saving from danger during a deadly situation. Josie huffed and rubbed her eyes until she saw lights behind her eyelids. How could she be such a _mean girl_ like _Lizzie_?

            “Whoa there, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Josie looked up and her eyes focused in on her sister who had just walked in. Josie quickly glanced at the clock. It had been several minutes since Hope walked out. Lizzie’s smirk had returned from the chaos of yesterday…yesterday, when Hope had saved them _again_ ; this time from a fucking spider monster from Greek myth. Something in Josie’s expression must’ve looked _off_ , enough so that Lizzie walked over and sat on Josie’s bed.

            “Hope.” Josie mumbled.

            “Hope? What did she say to you? Was it for what you to dad a few days ago? I swear that arrogant little _princess–_ ,” Lizzie didn’t have a chance to really fire herself up before Josie put a hand around her sister’s wrist, cutting off Lizzie’s tirade.

            “She didn’t say anything mean. She just came by to apologize for the gargoyle thing.”

            Lizzie cocked her head in confusion, “What about it? She saved us– oh. ‘Cause dad was a self-sacrificing dumbass and she blames herself?”

            Josie nodded, then raised an eyebrow, “When did you become all attentive to Hope Marshall’s moods?”

Lizzie’s expression became more pensive. “It’s _Hope Mikaelson_ now. And she would apologize for that. I don’t have to like her to see how guilty she feels about everything. That girl lives inside a Hero Complex the size of a mansion.”

            “I don’t think hero complexes are mansions Lizzie.”

            Lizzie rolled her eyes, “Whatever.” Lizzie got up and moved over to the closet, shedding her clothes on her way. Josie rolled her eyes, again. Deep down, Josie Saltzman knew that Lizzie being extra was going to destroy her eye muscles from all the rolling. But the break in conversation allowed Josie to reflect on Lizzie’s earlier tone when she talked about Hope’s hero complex.

            “Did she say something to _you_?” Josie asked.

            Lizzie shrugged, “Not exactly, but she said something about grief that I don’t think I really understand, and it made me think about things from her perspective a little. About dad almost dying for her. I think in her own way, it bothered her as much as it bothered us.”

            “That’s oddly insightful of you,” Josie commented. And truly it was. Lizzie was not usually prone to outbursts of honesty.

            “I know right? It’s almost like the blonde bimbo has a brain and can feel sympathy! Did we just switch roles?” Lizzie waved her hands around her head as she said it, as if her words were anything less than doused in sarcasm.

            Josie half-heartedly lobbed a pillow at her twin. Lizzie laughed as she caught it. Ignoring Josie’s expectant outstretched arms, Lizzie placed it gingerly on her own bed, trolling the shit out of Josie. Yeah, she wasn’t getting that pillow back until morning at the earliest.

            With a long-suffering sigh, Josie rolled on her side and switched off her lamp. “Goodnight Lizzie.”

            “Why all this concern for Hope all of a sudden?” Lizzie asked as she pulled her own covers up to her chest.

            Josie thought for a moment about it before saying, “She saved our lives twice in a week. We owe her a little decency.” With a snap of her fingers, she turned off Lizzie's lamp for her. Further discussion of Hope Mikaelson would have to wait for tomorrow. 

           

           

            Elsewhere in the Salvatore School, Alaric Saltzman was glaring at his phone. One of his closest friends had just gone radio silent. Or been attacked. Probably attacked.

As if it wasn’t enough that one of his students flagrantly fed from Mystic High’s students and basically tried to attack Matt. Matthew Donovan the goddamned sheriff. Who had threatened the students to Alaric’s faceHow long was it until Caroline got back?

            Caroline. Who had yet to be informed that each of her daughters had brushes with death in the last few days. And that dragons were real, and there was a potential apocalypse on the horizon connected to a knife that may no longer even be in the good guys’ possession.

            As if it wasn’t bad enough, now the twins were getting out of his control. Even worse, he knew they were right. Hope did save them. Frankly, he lost enough sleep already.

He peered at the grandfather clock that Caroline had procured from one of the Mikaelson family’s many private collections. She was so excited about it he didn’t have the heart to say no. He may not be in love with Caroline, but saying no to her pouty face was a losing battle, especially when the entire primary school class of first-graders was standing behind her. Cheater.

            A knock rattling his door jolted Alaric from memory lane. He crossed the room and opened the door to his favourite and most aggravating student.

            “We need to talk,” Hope said as she brushed passed him and sat down without waiting for so much as a word.

            The clock struck eleven as Alaric closed the door, fortifying his resolve for what would surely be a whammy of a conversation.

           


	2. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mikaelson family have breakfast.

CHAPTER 2

 

            “Marcel!” Nope. It was too early for this shit. “MARCEL GERARD, wake up now!” With a growl of frustration, Marcel the former king of New Orleans and veritable son of Klaus Mikaelson rose from slumber. Rebekah wasn’t in the bed, but it wasn’t her who was calling him. _That’s strange._

            He moved quicker than the human eye could catch into the kitchen of his and Rebekah’s penthouse suite, overlooking Central Park NYC.

            Rebekah was there, but it was doubtful she’d be the one who yelled at him since she was holding a beautiful baby girl. Freya and Keelin’s baby girl. Which meant…ah shit.

            “Hey Auntie, what’s good?” he drawled as he turned to face the other two heartbeats he could feel. Sure enough, Freya and Keelin were there too, lunging on the luxurious leather sofa.

            “Don’t call her that, it makes _me_ feel _old_ ,” Rebekah mumbled, sparking a snickering fit from Freya and Keelin. Freya was more successfully covering her mirth than her wife.

            “You know I like older women,” Marcel teased as he lifted his young niece from Rebekah’s arms and placing a chaste kiss on his wife’s upturned lips. The cooing noises he made at the tender grabby hands of the 18 month-old immediately silenced whatever threatening presence he brought into the room. Not that he would’ve gotten past Freya, even if violence were on his mind.

After a moment he addressed the reason for his interrupted slumber. “I heard your dulcet tones?”

            Freya nodded and traded him her daughter, handing him a steaming cup of coffee. She began without prelude, “Only telepathically, but yeah.” Marcel rolled his eyes as he parted from Freya and started gathering ingredients from the fridge. Freya continued, “Something is wrong in Mystic Falls.”

            Keelin nudged her wife gently before adding, “Hope is fine, but some of the detection spells that Freya set up were bypassed. No known creature can do that.”

            “Then how do we know anything’s wrong if your proximity alerts are dormant?” Marcel asked as he went about prepping breakfast. It was 6:30am, why the hell was everyone awake right now?

            “Because of this,” Freya intoned as she produced a blood-spattered dagger from her purse. It had a nice pommel, with a detailed wooden hilt, but the blade itself was painfully broad and only sharp on one edge. Sharp, surely, but a little dull to Marcel’s aesthetic tastes.

            “I feel like I’ve seen that knife before,” Rebekah mused.

            Keelin took a single look at it and muttered, “It kind of looks like Commander Lexa’s dagger.” Nobody commented further along that path, they all remembered how inconsolable Keelin was when she belatedly got around to watching that show. _That_ was a terrifying transformation and subsequent full moon.

            Freya shook her head, “It has the blood of several different creatures on it. One trace is human, probably Alaric’s man, but there are at least three others I’ve never encountered before. What’s more is that Hope has held this blade. Her magic signature is all over the hilt.”

            Marcel looked at it for a moment but Rebekah beat him to the punch, “And how pray tell did you acquire it?”

            “Davina sensed it since she was close to it, and Kol tore apart the monster who carried it. Some mummy looking thing,” Keelin supplied. “He kept the knife at all because he thought ‘it looked smashing’.”

            Marcel nodded, that sounded exactly like the most volatile son of Mikael. “So what do we do with it now? And where are those two?”

            “Oh they went to Montreal. Kol was insistent about keeping Davina away from ‘unnecessary danger’. But they’re a short flight away if things get ugly,” Keelin said. Kol may be a hot-headed murderer, but he also officiated her wedding to Freya, so Keelin was willing to forgive his rather brusque disposition.

Freya continued where her wife left off, “Tell Alaric we have it? It obviously involves Hope somehow, but it probably has to do with the Salvatore school as well,”

            Rebekah twitches uncomfortably about the potential return to Mystic Falls. Freya realizes what probably crossed Rebekah’s mind with a wicked smirk, “So Rebekah, I hear that Matt is a _sheriff_ now.” Marcel fixed Rebekah with a curious raised eyebrow.

            “How the fuck did you find out about that, it was way before we even knew you existed!” the blonde Original burst out indignantly, much to the laughter of everybody else. Well, Marcel wasn’t _laughing_ per say, but he was definitely restraining a grin. He knew where Rebekah’s heart lay.

            “Kol. And Elijah, and Klaus. They each had some sordid stories about the family’s most recent stay in Mystic Falls,” Freya replied as she went to help Marcel with breakfast.

It was almost strange to see the two of them making eggs, roasting potatoes, and cooking artisan ham like there was never a blood feud. Like they had never been poised to murder each other.

            Keelin and Rebekah shared a smile at their spouses working so well together. Hope really had brought the family together in a way that not even the profound loss of three brothers could seem to spoil. Keelin just wished Hope could really _see_ and _understand_ the aggressively positive impact her very _existence_ had on the Mikaelson family…even if it took a while for that positivity to manifest.

            “I don’t see why we should _all_ have to go to Mystic Falls,” Rebekah argued, clearly still a bit peeved about Freya trolling her earlier with her failed romance with _Sheriff_ Matt Donovan. Marcel pressed a placating kiss to the top of her head as he placed her breakfast in front of her.

            “Oh sure, be a gentleman to Rebekah, and leave me with the rest,” Freya rolled her eyes as she levitated the other plates laden with food to the table with a fluidity that made the others in the room experience a shadow of envy.

            Freya retrieved her daughter with a haughty look on her face she directed at everyone else. Marcel spoke up before Freya could through more shade at him, “I think some of us should go to Mystic Falls.”

            Freya was poised to argue with him on principle, but quickly realised the intelligence behind Marcel’s words. “I concur. It should be the two of us. ” Everyone looked shocked for a moment with how easily Freya agreed with Marcel.

Keelin looked a little glum, but also wasn’t a fool, she knew it was smartest too. Freya was always the one to dirty her hands for her family, and this time would be no different.

            Rebekah peered between her eldest sibling and her new husband. “And you’re so quick to agree with this why?”

            “Freya is the strongest witch on the planet, and Marcel the strongest vampire. They’ll watch each other’s backs,” Keelin shrugged. Marcel nodded, and Freya rolled her eyes, but it was good enough for Keelin. “But our daughter is staying here.” Freya quickly agreed with that. “You’re just checking it out, making sure our Hope is safe, and then coming back before Rebekah drives me insane, got it?” Keelin said as Rebekah huffed and lightly flicked a potato at her werewolf sister-in-law.

            Breakfast went pretty quickly after that. After their goodbyes, Rebekah was holding her youngest niece, who had since been fed and bathed, rocking her to sleep as Regina Spektor lightly played from the speakers. “They’ll be alright Keelin, won’t they?” She hated herself for asking, but she needed the reassurance.

            Keelin put a solid hand on Rebekah’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze. “They’ll be fine, and so will Hope.” Keelin briefly looked into the deep-seated fear present in the elder vampire’s gleaming eyes, and decided some humour was in order. “Got anymore stories about Freya learning how to adult in the 21st century for me?”

            Rebekah smiled. Yeah, everything would be fine.


	3. Final Form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel offers a proposition to Freya en-route to Mystic Falls.

 

CHAPTER 3

            A sturdy all-electric pickup truck was going a solid 20 miles past the speed limit weaved in and out of the cars around it. “Freya, I’ve got a proposition for you that I really want you to consider,” Marcel began as he slowed to take a right turn onto the highway heading down to Virginia. Freya raised an eyebrow as she plucked one ear bud from her ear, an audio book quietly whispering from it.

            “Something you waited until I couldn’t get away from you to tell me?” the Norwegian replied. “And you also made sure our spouses weren’t around either. Should I be worried around you Mr. Gerard?” she said with an arched eyebrow.

            Marcel rolled his eyes, “Jesus Freya.” The witch chuckled. Marcel stopped a moment to consider his next words in the aftermath of her cheeky insinuation. He wasn’t about to propose cheating, but it was something binding and intimate; just entirely non-sexual or romantic. It was for the family.

            Freya noticed his serious face coming on. “Marcel, is everything alright?”

            Marcel nodded, and decided to just spit it out. “I think we should bond. Like what Dahlia did with Klaus. You’d become the most powerful witch in the world, and functionally invulnerable. I can’t help but be worried about opponents that we _have no idea_ how to deal with. And I think that we should be ready for anything.”

Marcel let out a breath before continuing. Since Freya didn’t interrupt, he pressed forward, “If you’re worried about outliving Keelin or your daughter, you’ve got two people who could immortalize them with a word. I’m not suggesting this lightly, but without Klaus and Elijah, I _am_ worried about this family. We still have so many enemies, and I’d rather not be caught–,”

“I agree,” Freya spoke softly. “Your fears are the same as mine. I talked to Kol after he handed over the knife, and I didn’t tell you all before, but he nearly lost his fight to the thing that carried it. Not to the creature itself, but the knife. The wounds this blade cause have scarred his body, just superficially, but I think that knife can cause serious damage to non-originals, and I _hate_ being vulnerable. I hate that Keelin and our daughter are vulnerable.” Freya huffed as she went back over her words in her head. “I probably sound just like my mother before she turned my siblings into blood drinkers.”

            Marcel was baffled. “Yeah. You’re probably right about Esther. I thought we’d argue about it much more.”

Freya looked a little guilty. _That’s weird, oh wait a minute_. “You’ve been thinking about this for a while weren’t you?” Marcel guessed.

            Freya nodded. “Ever since Dahlia proved it was possible really. And then _you_ were our enemy, and me, my brothers and sister were incapacitated...by you. Hope is young, my daughter is young, and I’m the eldest. I wouldn’t be doing _my job_ if I wasn’t ready to take some extreme precautions. After the Hollow tore this family apart, I began making preparations,” Freya shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I was going to ask you about this when we got to Mystic Falls.”

            Despite the severity of their conversation, Marcel couldn’t help but let out one of his deep laughs. “It seems we are more alike than we thought, aren’t we auntie?” Freya smacked him on the shoulder.

            “Far be it for me to agree with Rebekah, but being your auntie makes _me_ feel old,” Freya mumbled. Marcel laughed some more.

            “You don’t happen to have the materials with you right now do you?” Marcel asked, his tone shifting back to a decidedly non-humours tone. “Have you broached the topic with your wife?”

            Freya nodded. “Keelin wasn’t thrilled about it, but she’s been putting up with this family’s bullshit for so long that I think it wore her down a little. I’m not going to use the exact spell Dahlia did, I’ve made improvements. Safeguards that will bind both of us from becoming too monstrous.”

            “Shit, you’ve really went and thought this through. I suppose you’re the smartest one of us left huh?” Marcel chuckled.

            “Only just,” Freya admits. She takes a moment to pause the audiobook she’d been listening to for the duration of this conversation. “Keelin insisted on oaths that if broken would render us both human. And frankly, I agree with her.”

            Marcel saw through her lie instantly, “No you don’t, but it looks like she eventually convinced you huh?”

            Freya flushed a little, being caught so easily in a lie. “Okay fine, it took her a while to convince me, but I agree with her _now_. The first of these oaths is no killing children, so I really do hope you can get on board with that. Having a daughter kinda traded in my apathy for empathy on that one”

            Marcel nodded, but pointed out the dark truth, “And if a child is bewitched against us?”

            Freya nodded, “There are stipulations for acting in defense and unavoidable situations. It’s not an exact science, but if you disagree with the rest of the conditions, we can work it over.”

            “Is there a nuclear option? If somehow one of us becomes an irredeemable monster, and somehow bypasses your conditions?” Marcel asked.

            Freya smirked as she flicked her hand and the right turn signal was activated. Marcel took the cue and pulled off at the next exit. Everything was about to change again, but this time, it was certainly in their favour. “I don’t think that will ever happen, but if it ever does, Hope will be the nuclear option. Or, our wives.”

            “Hope isn’t immune to my venom.” Marcel said softly, horrified that he could indirectly be the cause for her death. “If she can’t withstand that, then there’s no real way an immortal Hope could beat evil me.”

            Freya smirked, “I have some of her blood, which I’ll fuse as a component to your venom during the ritual. Specifically, it’ll make it so that while your venom could hurt her like a bitch, it wouldn’t be any worse than a normal bite for her after today. She would just shake it off.”

            Marcel nodded slowly at that, his fears placated. He didn’t want to lose somebody like he lost Josh.

Besides, Hope would never let things escalate like that in the first place. And even if it did, Hope would have centuries under her belt as a uniquely powerful being. She’d find a way. As much as Hope reminded Marcel of Klaus and Hayley, her attitude surrounding ‘cleaning up after everyone’s mess’ was very _Freya_ of her. And Freya got that trait from Dahlia. So when Freya said that one day in the far flung future Hope would stop them if it came to it, Marcel knew the girl he’d truly come to view as his young sister could do it.

            Their car came to a stop behind a diner. They got out, Freya grabbed her duffel bag of witchery from the boot, and fixed Marcel with an intense stare, “You ready for this?”

            Marcel cracked his knuckles in the most cliché way possible before replying, “It’s hero time,” with a shit-eating grin on his face.

            Face-palming, Freya led them into the woods to become their final-forms.


	4. Contingency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope and Alaric reach a dark conclusion regarding the twins' safety.

A/N: Non-gratuitous TRIGGER WARNING for magical plan oriented SELF-HARM. It’s NOT a suicidal kind of self-harm, but I understand that it bears enough of a resemblance to be triggering. Please find someone to talk to if you find this distressing.

 

CHAPTER 4

 

            Back at the Salvatore school, Alaric sat in his chair contemplating the teenager in front of him. He gave a brief nod just as the sun was peaking through the trees’ lowest branches. Hope took his cue that their _long whammy of a conversation_ was over. “I’ll talk to them. It might sound better coming from me, after all, they’re probably more pissed at you right now anyway,” Hope drawled as she picked up her sweatshirt she had draped over the back of her chair during hour 4 of their conversation.

            Alaric gave a long-suffering sigh before nodding and gathering some papers, doubtlessly a thrown-together lesson plan for the new week. He thought better of it, and picked up his cell phone. “I’m gonna call Caroline back here. This has all escalated so fast, and we’ll need all hands on deck until it simmers down. I can’t be fighting with Matt while trying to protect everyone, while playing a game of hot potato with that invulnerable dagger.”

            The young Mikaelson tilted her head in thought, “My family might be showing up soon. I’d be surprised if either Freya or Davina hasn’t laid some kind of spell down to alert them to strange and dangerous bullshit around these parts.” Before Alaric could protest, she cut him off, “I didn’t say anything to them. But after the year my family’s had…you can’t really blame them for being terrified for me,” Hope finished softly.

            Alaric just put up his hands in surrender, “At least Caroline gets along with some of them,” Hope’s expression darkened a smidge as she remembered that it was _Klaus_ that Caroline was close with.

            “You should warn Sheriff Donovan to stay away from my family. They take idle threats a lot more seriously now, but they won’t start anything unless he does.”

            Alaric sized up the not even five and a half foot tall girl in front of him. Yep, he could see Klaus in those eyes, but he could also see his long-time friend Hayley. And he knew that Hope was telling the truth.

            “They’re already coming aren’t they? You just wanted to give me a tentative warning so I didn’t ah, lose it huh?” Alaric realized.

            Hope held up her phone which had a text notification banner displayed. With a small and wholly soft and childlike smile she said, “Aunt Freya and Marcel Gerard are going to be popping in. For what it’s worth, they probably won’t be here long. If it’s all the same to you, I think the terrible twosome and me should be excused from classes and detention today. It’ll be a lot for them to process, and I’m going to be running on espresso.”

            Alaric quickly wrote up the paperwork excusing the three of them and said, “Please be kind with them. I know they haven’t treated you super well, especially after I ah…,”

            “Nearly lost them a father for my sake? Trust me, I know, and I will. But you need to reassure them that’ll never happen again.” Hope drawled. Yep, she was still salty with him about his white knight inclinations. “If that dagger killed me, I’d just come back as a god knows what kind of Uber vamp. _You_ would die. Don’t die. I’d miss you too. And then the three of us would inevitably resurrect you.” On that note, Hope took her leave, flaring her sweatshirt out behind her as her arms found the sleeves. She was out of Alaric’s office before he could get in another word.

            He sighed and sent Caroline a message he knew she’d be notified of immediately, “Daughters safe, but school is in danger. We need you here. Hope downed a literal dragon the other day, and saved the girls from a spider creature from myth. We might need some heavy-hitters before this is all over. I’m sorry.”

           

 

            Hope left him there as she made her way to the kitchen to fetch a couple glasses, and helped herself to a couple double shots of espresso. A couple minutes later, she found herself outside the door for a second before lightly knocking. She’d rarely felt like such a vampire. Upon nobody coming to the door she let herself in with a quick lock pick spell. Rude, she knew, but she was past giving a shit.

            The twins were sharing Lizzie’s bed, snuggled together like they’d been since they were seven years old. Even someone as jaded as Hope had to admit they looked adorable.

            The redheaded Mikaelson took a seat in the corner of the room while she began mentally preparing herself for the conversation that would happen the moment one of them woke up. She tried to remind herself the plan she came up with after she apologized to Josie last night was _just a contingency_. But Hope was a Mikaelson, and that meant she’d have to get her shit together.

Things were getting far too dangerous at this school, and even Alaric admitted it. Caroline had been called back from her recruiting scout. Kaleb was fang-raping cheerleaders and apparently threatening the sheriff, mythic monsters were hurting people, and the werewolves were in a tizzy about the Landon and Rafael situation. Hope was of half a mind to go down to the cells and sentence Kaleb to death by werewolf bite herself.

She quickly shook her head. While she _hated_ the way Alaric talked about her dead father, Hope also had to admit the gruff headmaster had a point about her own violent reflexes. She had to at least have a cooler head, like her mother, like Aunties Freya and Keelin. Not like Rebekah or Kol though, they were hot messes where violence was concerned. Hope smiled to herself before her gaze settled on the gently snoring Saltzman twins. It was just after 6am. They’d wake soon. Or, at least Lizzie would, despite not being biologically related to Caroline, those two blondes were always up at ungodly hours in the morning.

 

            Hope had to protect her two friends, even if she barely got along with them at the moment; even though they weren’t really all that friendly. The serene moment in the park with Josie was enough for Hope to latch onto…until she accidentally stabbed herself as a direct result of internally acknowledging her crush on the brunette siphoner.

From a harsh and all to realistic standpoint, the three of them were the last line of defence to protect the children at this school. It only made sense they should be as powerful as their adversaries right?

            Hope steeled herself and pulled out a paring knife she’d borrowed from the kitchen. She willed her trembling left arm still. The trembling wasn’t from fear, but she could feel the caffeine working its wonders. She brought the knife down gently, and experienced one of the rare moments of annoyance at her expedient healing factor.

When both tumblers in front of Hope were filled with a few shots each worth of her tribrid blood, she set them down on Lizzie’s nightstand; one bloody cupful for each of the twins. _Just a contingency_ Hope vigorously reminded herself, pushing down the horrors her mind conjured that lead to this plan of hers.

            Now all that remained was to wait for Lizzie and Josie to awaken. Hope reached out and summoned one of Josie’s Jane Austen novels to her hand. When she opened it however, she was staring down at a _very_ Sapphic-looking graphic novel, _Sunstone_. Huh, Josie was embarrassed enough about her reading habits to place a glamour on all her books. Hope looked back to the rest of them, wondering what other illicit reading materials were there.

Hope looked up at the sleeping twins and barely suppressed a chuckle. It seems Josie might be more interesting than she’d hoped.

This was going to be a _fun_ conversation.

Hope opened up the red cover and started reading.

 

 

 


	5. A Confession About Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Saltzman Twins and Hope have a talk.

 

CHAPTER 5

           

 

 

            Josie had one of the strangest dreams. She, Lizzie, and Hope were on a subway train, and Hope was talking to an elderly black man in Japanese. Said man spoke it as fluently as any anime character, clearly no novice. Fair enough, but how the hell did Hope suddenly know Japanese? But then they both stopped, and turned to the twins, with identical unreadable looks on their faces.

            The weird dream rapidly faded as she heard Lizzie’s unmistakable pissed off mood. “What the fuck! If this is some prank, I’ll–,”

            “You’ll what, Lizzie? Wake up Josie? Actually though, she should be awake for this _conversation_. And it should be a _conversation_ , not a shouting match. I already have a headache. Arguing with Dr. Saltzman for _hours_ and running on espresso, no matter how high quality, is not good for me,” Josie recognized _Hope’s_ voice? What was Hope doing here, in their room?

            As Josie properly came to, she noticed two glasses filled with red on Lizzie’s bedside table. Wait…what the fuck. “Are you going to turn us?” Josie managed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes in a way that made her miss Hope’s averted gaze.

            “That’s not the goal,” Hope sighed as she rose to her feet and replaced the graphic novel she borrowed from Josie’s secret stash. Josie’s breath hitched when she saw that, and her cheeks were immediately flushed in embarrassment. Mercifully, Lizzie was too preoccupied with watching Hope walk around freely _in their room_.

            “Get out,” Lizzie barked.

            “Not until I say my piece, and you both drink those glasses,” Hope replied without the heat of Lizzie’s voice, but just as firm in her resolution.

            Lizzie damn nearly crossed the room and throttled the auburn-haired tribrid, but Josie’s hand held her back. Hope, for her part looked entirely unthreatened by the fuming blonde. Hope looked down at Josie, making eye contact for a moment.

            The shortest girl in the room decided this was the opening she needed and took it, “Last night, I had a long-ass talk with your dad about how the two of you nearly got yourselves killed this week. And shut up,” she snapped as both twins tried to intervene, “you got yourself slashed up by a slow-moving gargoyle,” Hope gestured to Lizzie, now pointing at Josie as she said, “and _you_ somehow managed to walk into a fucking spider web. Even though Alaric has been tampering with your magical education, you’ve got to be more careful. So, I came up with a contingency.”

            “You turning us into witch/vampire hybrids isn’t a contingency, it’s bullshit,” Lizzie pounced on her chance to speak up.

            “And hopefully you won’t become hybrids!” Hope almost shouted at them. “But until you learn how to get your shit together and actually protect yourselves, without my help,” she added as she could see Josie about to point out their co-op efforts in destroying their mythical adversaries, “I proposed that you have my blood in your system; so that if or most likely _when_ you’re killed, you don’t truly die. And before you say something dumb about how your father would _never_ blah blah blah, you should know he agreed with me really fucking quickly.” Hope finished with a huff.

            The twins were lost for words. A myriad of emotion crossed their faces as they processed Hope’s little speech. Finally, Josie ventured, “Agreed with _you_?” Hope tensed as she realised her slip up. She thought the twins would be more amenable if the whole tribrid blood diet idea came from their father and not the school pariah.

            “Yes,” Hope sighed. “It might come as a surprise, but _I_ don’t want you two to die either. Even if you annoy me 80% of the time.”

            “Don’t lie Hope,” Lizzie retorted.

            “97% of the time,” Hope admitted before slumping down into the chair she spent the last hour in while she read. “Look. I lost almost half my family recently, and I’m sick of losing people. You two are the closest thing to friends that I’ve ever had, and I _won’t_ let either of you _die_ when I have the power to stop that from happening. So drink my fucking blood already so I can talk about the cool stuff Alaric will let me teach you.”

            Josie swallowed Hope’s blood so fast that the two other girls were genuinely shocked. Hope’s cheeks tinged pink for reasons she wasn’t ready to interrogate, but Lizzie was livid. “What the fuck Josie!”

            Josie wiped away a little bit of red that got on her lips and chin in her haste and then said, “Look at her right now. Look into Hope’s eyes.” Lizzie did. Hope was a little confused, but visibly relieved.

            “Okay. Now what?” Lizzie drawled.

            “Do you really think that she’d let us leave this room if we don’t drink her blood?” Josie deadpanned.

            Hope’s jawline tensed, recognizing that Josie saw through her speech. If Lizzie and Josie didn’t drink willingly, she’d _make_ them drink, for their own safety. Hope knew that the willingness to do something like violate the twins’ bodily autonomy was a _dark_ fucking thing. Hope hated herself for how ready was to do that, even now. The parallel to Kaleb sitting in the dungeon downstairs made her skin crawl.

            “Besides,” Josie continued, noticing the tension her words created, she noted the darkening look in Hope’s eyes, “I want to learn how to be a boss-ass witch, and Hope will teach us. Right?” Hope nodded.

“Dad couldn’t have signed off on that so quickly,” Lizzie half-heartedly contended.

Hope shook her head; “It took a few hours to convince him about the teaching you magic bit. The whole blood thing was less than a five minute discussion. The man may be wary of vampires, but he’s not willing to play around with your lives. I was only able to convince him to teach the pair of you magic privately, my starting bid was teaching the whole school. He did not go for that.”

After sharing a meaningful look with her twin, Lizzie deflated and raised the tumbler to her lips, with some seriously unfortunate timing.

Josie ran her tongue around, finishing the small globules of red that spattered the inside of her cheek and lips then remarked almost to herself, “Hope really doesn’t taste as bad as I thought she would.”

            There was a deadly moment of silence while Josie’s confession hung in the air. Blood spewed onto the floor as Lizzie just _could not_ with that line in her head. All three girls had flaming cheeks, Hope’s blush extended down her neck. Josie buried her face in her pillow with embarrassment. Hope’s jaw was somewhere on the floor, a fact she tried to cover by taking the knife out to hastily refill Lizzie’s dose.

 

            After Josie was coaxed into joining the world again after her bombshell of a faux pas, and Hope had ensured that Lizzie finally drank her fill, they had begun discussing offensive magic.

            There was a knock on the door. Hope rose, since she was closest, but Lizzie waved her away and went to get the door herself. Lizzie swung open the door to be faced with a vaguely tall and familiar blonde, accompanied by a darkly chiseled Adonis of a man.

            “Hey there little Saltzman, is Hope around?” the taller blonde spoke with a smirk matching her compatriot, knowing the answer to her question. Lizzie stepped back, and Hope flew right past her, tackling the pair of newcomers.

            “Freya! Marcel! You’re here!” The normally stoic Hope gushed as she held her family members in a crushing embrace.

            Momentarily shocked by the very off-brand wellspring of positive emotions from Hope, Josie stood up and gestured around awkwardly, “Welcome to the Salvatore School, Hope’s family.”


	6. A Viking in Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya and Marcel arrive and chat with Alaric. We also get a glimpse of Freya's capabilities post-bonding ritual.

 

CHAPTER 6

            The sun was breaking the horizon line as the ritual reached its conclusion. “Feel any different?” Marcel asked as the ritual completed. Freya’s list of fail-safes was extensive. There were even provisions for if one of them were killed, the other wouldn’t die. When it was completed, he felt like he had just taken off a weighted vest. Not too different, but definitely a little stronger and faster. Not that he needed either of those things…or hopefully _wouldn’t_ need those things, but it was nice to feel a little younger.

            The Norwegian born daughter of Mikael looked to the sky and muttered a short verse in a language Marcel couldn’t quite identify. The clouds seemed darker for a moment before the rain came down alongside a violet flash and immediate thunderclap. Freya’s upturned face, broke out a foreign expression Marcel had never seen on her; unrestricted wonder. “I’m feeling good,” Freya murmured. Despite the rain, she stood there for the next couple minutes, getting drenched. She clenched her fists, and then calmly opened her hands, arms held out in front of her. The rain came to as sudden a stop as it was born.

            “Wanna go get celebratory milkshakes?” She asked, her demeanour slightly muted from before, but still as happy as Marcel had ever seen her.

            “As long as they’ve got strawberry, I’m in,” Marcel chuckled. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy Jesus Christ, Freya was strong enough to control the weather now as easily as bending down to tie her shoelaces. So that’s a thing Marcel struggled to wrap his head around as Freya literally skipped the rest of the way back to their car and the diner.

            The involuntary twinge of horror at Freya’s new powers quickly was gone as she made an ecstatic call to her wife. Marcel knew that at some point Rebekah would gently nag him about not being the first to check in with her and Keelin.

 

 

            The rest of the drive to the Salvatore school was as quiet as the drive to the diner. Well, except for Freya muttering some kind of spell using a brochure from the school itself; a location spell for Hope.

           Luckily, Freya was a decent navigator, since Marcel had never been to the Salvatore School before. They stopped once for gas at a strip mall off the highway, and Freya outed herself as a basic bitch. Nursing her peppermint mocha, she gave Marcel a look daring him to make a cheeky comment. He did not. He did however, order himself a large hot chocolate to Freya’s amusement: the two most powerful supernatural creatures of their kind...way to represent.

           

“Dr. Saltzman, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Freya crisply greeted a harried-looking Alaric as he approached the gates to _let_ them in. Well, Freya could’ve easily let them in, but shattering the boundary spell may have sent an unnecessarily aggressive message. Hope explicitly asked them to put their best foot forward, since it had been a crucible of a fortnight for the school.

“It’s ‘Alaric’ and you know that,” Freya’s lips twitched into a grin. Alaric undid the enchanted chains keyed to him. He looked up to address the Uber vampire, “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, I’m Alaric Saltzman.”

Marcel took Alaric’s hand in a firm shake, neither intimidating nor weak, “Marcel Gerard, I’ve heard great things about you from Hope.” Marcel wasn’t even lying.

            Freya looked at her old friend; they had in fact been on good terms for the last decade, since Hope began schooling here. There was no way Hayley would’ve been okay with this place without having Freya vetting it first. Freya and Alaric’s conversations in the old days were focused about her learning about what her siblings had been up to in this sleepy clusterfuck of a town, where her family had set down roots after abandoning her in Norway.

            Alaric deeply hated Klaus. And Freya could honestly empathize with that. It was something they bonded over. Oh, Freya would’ve defended Klaus to the death if she had to against an outsider, she was his big sister, but she never forgave him from killing Mikael. Even though she knew her beloved father was objectively evil in so many different categories. Alaric was also still conflicted that the school only got off the ground because of Klaus’ monumental donation during its founding phase. Freya confirmed later that the money came from Klaus alone. Sure, the other Mikaelsons donated generously and regularly after Hope enrolled, but Klaus’s positive contribution to the Salvatore School was something Alaric would never really live down.

            Alaric led them to the main building without much fanfare, “I’ve also recalled Caroline, and she should be here by dinner, to which you’re both invited.”

            Marcel and Freya exchanged a look before Freya said; “We were planning on having dinner with Hope,”

            Alaric rolled his eyes, “She’ll be there. The recent attacks spurred her to take a certain initiative that I’d like to talk with her along with Caroline and my daughters with, together.”

            Marcel raised an eyebrow, not entirely pleased with this development, but Freya shrugged, “Sure, that’ll work, if it’s what she wants. We’d like to see her immediately, but then we have things we need to discuss with you as well regarding the attacks at this school. We’re…concerned,” Freya said pointedly.

            Alaric nodded, resigned that ‘concerned parents and family’ now meant this lot. “That’s fine. If you want breakfast, it’s served in the main hall at 7:30, which gives you a little bit of time to talk with Hope, and time for me to take a damn nap.”

            “Burning the midnight oil?” Marcel asked with smirk.

            “More like being guilt tripped by a certain red head into accepting private tutoring for my daughters,” Alaric admitted. Freya broke out in a grin, “Don’t you start, Viking.” Freya didn’t say anything, but she let out a chuckle as they reached the staircase of the dorms. Marcel politely held in a grin as well.

            “We’ll be back down soon enough, enjoy your naptime Alaric,” Freya grinned as she took the stairs two at a time, leaving Marcel in the dust for a moment before he shook his head at her antics.

            To Marcel’s surprise, Alaric had shaken his head in identical posture. Marcel came to a realization right then, he kinda liked this weathered dude who clearly was at ease around Freya. And Freya didn’t show her playful side to anyone really, not if they weren’t family. “If you ever need a guest lecturer or something, feel free to ask. Between Freya and myself, we could probably give some advise on how to walk down paths that lead away from being monsters. You know, if you’ve got any trouble makers that’ll become dangerous once they’re outta here,” Marcel said seriously, taking the usually unflappable headmaster by surprise.

            “Because you’ve been monsters, right?” Despite Alaric’s dry retort, Marcel didn’t feel any real malice.

            “Exactly,” Marcel agreed. “Also, because if Hope one day finds out her former classmates are victimizing or killing people…” Marcel didn’t need to continue. Alaric got it.

            “That blood shouldn’t be on her hands, yeah,” Alaric agreed.

            A flame burst into being on top of Marcel’s head, baffling him for a moment before the fire faded into a hastily scrawled note, “ _ **You’re missing some gay panic, and it’s priceless. Get up here!**_ ” Marcel chuckled as he read Freya’s note before it disintegrated to ash.

            “She does that to you often?” Alaric asked with a grin on his face for a change.

            Marcel just rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh, “According to her wife, she considers it ‘making up for lost time,’” Alaric’s grin widened a fraction.

            “I might take you up on your lecture offer,” Alaric said as his grin disappeared. Marcel clapped him lightly on the shoulder in acknowledgment before heading up to the dorms.


	7. Enter, Satan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josie and Lizzie have a tiff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one's a little shorter. And I just watched episode 6, so I'm recalibrating some things in my head while I write the next chapter. Nothing major, but this episode gave me some ideas.

 

 

CHAPTER 7

            The Mikaelsons were here…oh boy, things were about to get strange. Lizzie froze up when she tried to greet the newcomers; mostly because they were so damn shiny. Like, their eyes had this, gleam inside them that was absent in other supernaturals. Except Hope, but only when she was in a killing mood. Thank god for Josie picking up the slack so quickly. Twin intuition freaked some people out, but Lizzie was very thankful for it in the moment. “Welcome to the Salvatore School,” she hears Josie say alone. Oops, they usually did their twin thing with that greeting to unnerve people. It was Lizzie’s idea to start that protocol in the first place.

            The tall dark Adonis spoke first, after Hope had finished hugging him and her Aunt Freya to half-way to death, “I’m Marcel Gerard, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            Lizzie extended her hand for a handshake, but Marcel gently rotated her hand, folding her fingers and lightly kissed her knuckles.

            Lizzie felt herself turn red. It was involuntary. Hope sent Marcel a reproachful look, while Freya just slapped his shoulder light-heartedly. “I–I’m Lizzie Saltzman.”

            “And I’m Josie, it’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Gerard.” Josie spoke up to save her twin from further embarrassment. She did _not_ extend her hand, and settled for an awkward wave, that had both Mikaelson women grinning.

            Marcel inclined his head to the second Saltzman twin, completely aware of his usual effect on young ladies (and young men), not insulted whatsoever the dark-haired one didn’t want the ‘princess treatment’ (Hope’s words) like her sister. His gesture was only mostly gentlemanly; the rest was trolling. Though to be fair to Josie, she still hadn’t recovered from her accidental innuendo regarding Hope’s blood, so Marcel’s charm went right over her head.

            They quickly whisked Hope away, it made sense, they wanted to talk about family…and stuff? Lizzie wasn’t really sure, but she and Josie were alone once more, so now they could talk about the elephant in the room. As soon as Lizzie got herself under control again…she was not expecting to swoon so early in the morning, least of all over one of Hope’s crazy family members. He wasn’t a Mikaelson though, was he? Hope never talked about a _Marcel Gerard_ before, at least, not by name.

There was still a little time before their first class started, enough time for them both to have comfortable showers, if they rushed breakfast.

            Just when Lizzie was opening her mouth to ask Josie about their new situation, Hope popped her head back in the doorway; “Your dad gave you two the day off from classes, to process the whole new status quo thing. See you two later,” she winked at Josie as she disappeared once more, causing the brunette siphoner to blush uncontrollably again.

            After a moment of silence, Lizzie inevitably broke it with her question of , “How long have you been crushing on Hope?”

            Jose spun to face her twin with a petrified look on her face, “I–I don’t–,”

            “Cut the bullshit Josie, you’re blushing down to your collarbone because she winked at you just now. Not to mention what you said before her family got here.”

            Josie fidgeted for a moment before saying, “I don’t know?” Noticing Lizzie’s unconvinced raised eyebrow, she amended, “I’ve always _wanted_ to like her, but she’s always been such a loner. But recently though? Have you noticed she’s spoken to us more in the last month than since we’ve met her?”

            “I have noticed that,” Lizzie said slowly as she crossed the room to get dressed, shedding her nightclothes as she went.

            “I don’t know Lizzie! I don’t have a Eureka! moment for you. I’m not even really over Penelope yet, so this _new_ crush is just going to turn into a huge fucking mess,” Josie predicted as she slumped back to her bed, beginning to re-order her less–than–chaste collection of graphic literature. Hope had re-applied the glamour to _Sunstone_ _vol. 1_ before Lizzie noticed her twin’s penchant for reading lesbian bondage graphic novels. Thank whatever gods may be for small mercies, and Hope’s swift tactfulness.

            “I’m not angry that you have a crush on Hope, Josie,” Lizzie said as she put on a new bra, “It’s just a little disheartening that you kept your feelings for her to yourself.”

            “I don’t have to tell you everything Lizzie,” Josie retorted as she got up to change for the day as well. Instead of changing shamelessly in front of her twin like Lizzie did, Josie opted to take her clothes into the bathroom with her, locking the door. From behind the door, Lizzie could hear still hear her sister’s measured breaths, forcing herself to calm down. This conversation was over.

            Lizzie had clearly said the wrong thing, making Josie upset…again…Lizzie softly let out a word Caroline would’ve been on her case about, and promptly left the room, having put on jeans and a tasteful blouse. Lizzie needed a walk, shower be damned.

            On her way out to the grounds, Lizzie decided to nab a yogurt from the kitchen. No harm in having a little sustenance to help her nurture her mild self-loathing. Of course her favourite flavour was gone. Because of course it was.

           The blonde Saltzman closed the fridge, only to be faced with a smirking Penelope Park, who was holding the last of Lizzie's yogurt. “What do you want, Satan?" Penelope's smirk deepened as she luxuriously ate the last spoonful of Lizzie's snack. 

 


	8. Yogurt and Burgers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope and Lizzie have a tiff, while later on Hope, Marcel, and Freya have some diner food.

 

CHAPTER 8

            “Satan?” Penelope asked, calmly disposing of the empty yogurt container, lightly separating the post it Lizzie put on it denoting it as hers. “I really don’t know why you started this name-calling game of yours; it certainly wasn’t to make Josie feel better.” Penelope ignored the furious look Lizzie sent her and poured herself some coffee.

            “What?!” Lizzie whisper-yelled. If Penelope noticed some of the cutlery rattling in their drawers, she didn’t show it.

            “Your idea to start calling me horrible names, I read Harry Potter too you know. Though I will admit, I have heard Dr. Saltzman refer to Klaus Mikaelson as ‘Voldemort’ before. So your calling me ‘You Know Who’ is weirdly respectful in your own way, but only from a certain point of view,” Lizzie just huffed, “I’m not evil,” Penelope said firmly. Not giving Lizzie a chance to retort, Penelope promptly walked away, leaving Lizzie alone in the kitchen wondering what the hell just happened.

           

            Elsewhere, in a private upstairs room at the Mystic Grill of all places, Hope, Freya, and Marcel were being seated. There was a long table on one side of the room, and a private bar. But they wanted their privacy, so the bar went untended. On the far side of the room were a couple pool tables complimented by an air-hockey table and decades out of commission pinball machine. “So, how have you been?” Freya asked, all traces of mirth gone from their earlier encounter.

            Hope hummed in thought before replying, “I’m dealing.” Freya raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

            Marcel broke in, “If you were totally fine, I’d probably be more worried about you kid,” Hope lightly punched his shoulder, the vampire blood in her ensured that Marcel actually _felt_ it.

            They all heard the feet on the stairs, their purple-haired server was returning with waters. Hope glanced at the girl’s name-tag as she placed the waters down at their places; her name was Aya. “Have you three decided what you want, or would you like a few more minutes?” she asked pleasantly. She couldn’t be that much older than Hope, maybe in her early twenties at the oldest.

            “I’ll have a chocolate milkshake and the Mystic burger, no pickles,” Hope replied promptly. “With extra bacon,” she added quickly, getting a chuckle out of Marcel.

            Freya ordered the same thing as Hope–keeping the pickles, and a side-salad in lieu of fries. Marcel ordered fish and chips with a strawberry milkshake. Freya turned her nose up at the combination, but Aya nodded and wrote it all down in shorthand. And then the three of them were alone once more.

            “Why do you two feel different?” Hope ventured. They hadn’t spoken much in the car since Freya insisted on listening to NPR. The two immortals exchanged a look Hope wasn’t sure how to categorize, but she knew it meant something. “Freya?”

            “Since our family is down a couple heavy hitters,” Freya started tactfully, though Hope still flinched, “The pair of us decided to magically bond. The long and short of it is, I’m as powerful as Aunt Dahlia now. Or perhaps even more powerful? I still need to test my limits, but either way, I’m practically un-killable. And Marcel gets a bump up in his physical abilities.”          

            Hope looked between the two for a moment with wide eyes. “This will sink in for me later. But before it does, I’m gonna ask some questions.”

            “Shoot, kid,” Marcel invited.

            “So, do your wives know about this?” Hope asked immediately.

            They both nodded. Hope’s eyebrows climbed her forehead until Freya relented, “Yeah, it’s sinking in for them too. There may be a certain conversation you’ll be having with Keelin next you meet.” Freya couldn’t quite meet Hope’s eyes.

            “You mean make her a hybrid…like I did to my mom.” Hope finished the thought.   

            Freya nodded, finally looking her niece in the eye. Hope sucked in her cheeks in contemplation, before nodding. “I’ll sit on that one for a while too. Is it the vampirism that makes you so strong now?”

            Freya nodded, “In part. Marcel’s lethality to other vampires helps. As does his functional invincibility. It was important because when I did the spell, I added certain ‘protocols’ if you will, for different scenarios. And that subtlety wouldn’t have worked with a _normal_ vampire. They wouldn’t have been strong enough to maintain the burden of being linked to me.”

            Hope’s eyes lit up with something that slightly frightened Marcel and Freya. It was Klaus’ ‘I have a plan’ look that neither had seen on the teenager’s face. “So it’s because of the wolf venom? Marcel isn’t a hybrid, just an Uber vamp.” She lightly punched Marcel’s arm. Thanks to similar expressions on Alaric’s face in the not so recent past, Hope knew when she was channelling her father around people who knew his darker side. She knew she inherited some of those expressions.

            Marcel shrugged. He still wasn’t 100% sure about the intricacies of the ritual and its effects on Freya, other than his invincibility helped both of them in the long run.

            Hope’s mind was running very fast down a path that didn’t seem possible earlier today. If she turned the twins and bonded with them…what could ever stand in her way? I mean, they would be _far_ more powerful than normal vampires, they’d be magic using hybrids. NOPE. Hope shook her head of that notion. She _wouldn’t_ turn the Saltzman twins, unless two conditions occured: 1) if Hope failed to protect them, and they died, turned, became hybrids anyway. Or 2) they needed a desperate tactical advantage AND she had their consent. Hope tried not to think too hard about the feeling snaking around in her gut that if Josie asked with absolute intent, Hope would turn her.

            “Earth to Hope,” Marcel ventured, seeing Hope’s mind go elsewhere. He turned to Freya mouthing, ‘did we fuck up?’ Freya chuckled and shook her head.

            “One day, you’ll tell us where your thoughts went right then little missy,” Freya said as Hope was roused back to the present when she heard Aya coming back up the stairs with her order.

            Hope nodded numbly. She could hardly believe herself, she needed to understand why her thoughts went to some of the dark places they did. And not of assorted musings, she was seriously thinking about turning the twins for a moment, and whith her admittedly poor impulse control over important things, she’d need to pay very careful attention to herself going forward.

            Aya set down their lunches and milkshakes, apologizing for having forgot to bring the drinks earlier. None of the three patrons were upset about it, or even notices. After all, they were focused on less frivolous matters than milkshakes.

            “No worries,” Marcel was quick to reassure the girl. But she looked to Freya, weirdly enough for reassurance.

            “What he said,” Freya said, when she noticed the worried eyes of Aya.

            Aya quickly made herself scarce after that, but not before catching the teenager sending the taller blonde a raised eyebrow.

            “I’m married, Hope, keep it in your pants,” Freya shot at her niece, who chuckled.

            Marcel looked between the two, slightly confused, knowing the interaction that must’ve took place with the server, but not catching it himself. He needed to understand lesbians better it seemed.

            “So,” Marcel said as he finished one of his fish and chips, they _were_ rather good, “You got anything interesting to tell us Hope?”

            Hope set down her burger and chuckled darkly, “You’ll find out at dinner with the Saltzmans and Caroline. I really only want to explain it once, and it concerns the twins,” Hope said before taking a long pull on her milkshake, “They should be there when I talk about it, it’s actually more about them than me.”

            Whatever the two elders were expecting, it wasn’t that. While they both felt a shiver of annoyance at Hope’s delaying tactic, they shared a quick glance of pride. Their little girl was growing up.


	9. Sit Down and Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They sit down and talk...

 

CHAPTER 9

            The Saltzman twins had been weird all day; and not in a Lizzie spazzing out or Josie running off to be alone kind of weird. They just hadn’t left their room. Hope had been off-campus for the day. Was it a coincidence that the three of them were excused from classes today? When they ditched, their teachers always called them out. Nobody liked when the Headmasters’ children were dicking around.

            Penelope was a little too happy about the yogurt confrontation with Lizzie from that morning. The look on that blonde bimbo’s face when she stole her snack was priceless. Penelope’s thoughts returned to the essay she had to finish by tomorrow morning for Dr. Saltzman…ugh.

            Oh well, when you were top of the class, an A- on an assignment was an acceptable deviation from perfection. Well, to be fair, Josie was a pretty close second, and Lizzie, despite all her other issues, took her academics very seriously in her father’s classes. Though to be fair, it seems like Lizzie had more going on than she showed on the surface. Despite her frequent missteps regarding Josie, she _did_ seem to genuinely care. Her actions at that doomed fucking _flag football_ game was evidence enough for a flawed but steadfast loyalty. Penelope could respect that.

            But something was afoot. Neither Emma nor Dr. Saltzman were at dinner. Penelope was walking through the dormitory when she decided; _fuck it_.

            A quick spell confirmed Hope, Lizzie, and Josie were all vacated from their rooms. _What was happening tonight?_ Penelope quickly wracked her brain, _where would they be?_ It wasn’t her business. Not in the slightest, but she was _curious_ , and _able_ , so she decided to do a basic check first. Were they still on campus?

            Penelope thought for a minute, it was unlikely that the male co-headmaster would vacate the school while Caroline was gone.

            So which room would they–Dr. Saltzman’s office. Duh. Penelope quickly nipped over to her room to retrieve a few things before heading off towards the Headmasters’ office. It was adventure time.

 

 

            “Caroline, it’s been a while,” Freya smiled as she dragged the equally tall blonde vampire into a warm hug. Caroline nearly spluttered at the show of affection. She still wasn’t used to it. Mellowed out Mikaelsons. One of the weird quirks of vampirism was that Caroline was physically the age of the twins she gave birth to.

            “Freya, it _has_ been a while,” Caroline returned the hug enthusiastically after that brief hesitation. It was not lost on either blonde that had things played out differently, the possibility of them eventually having become sister-in-laws was basically an eventuality.

            It wasn’t lost on Hope either; Hope, who was hanging out on the other side of the room with Marcel, playing blackjack. The twins were clinging to their mother, as they had done since she showed up an hour before. And like with Freya and Marcel, she wanted a little time alone with her family before the conference.

            Alaric, brusque as you like, called out, “So, let’s get this started.” There was some eye-rolling, but within a couple minutes, everyone was situated. “I’d like to start this _thing_ by saying that things have gotten a little weird, and a lot dangerous around here recently.”

            Freya tossed the curse dagger on the table. Alaric shot her a _‘really?’_ look. Marcel and Hope restrained grins while the Nordic witch just shrugged. “This dagger is certainly interesting,” Freya added. “But it’s not the first priority right now. Hope here,” she said as she indicated her niece for emphasis, “is withholding information. Information that she told us would come to light tonight, as it wasn’t her burden alone to bear.”

            The table got a little tense after Freya spoke. Most people got tense after Freya spoke; totally a documented phenomenon. Hope sighed. “Alright, fine.” Hope however, was devoid of tension. She sent a meaningful look towards Josie and Lizzie, who seemed a little reluctant, but not in open rebellion.

            “I decided that I got tired of watching people I care about die,” Hope said pointedly, attracting sad glances from Marcel and Freya. “The last month or so has seen several near-death experiences for the students around this school.”

            “Dana died,” Lizzie said quietly. All eyes turned to her, but she didn’t flinch. “Some girl who went to Mystic Falls High. But that spider thing–,”

            “Arachne,” Josie supplied.

            “Arachne bit her, and turned her insides to mush. She died in front of us by literally puking all her guts out.” Lizzie finished. She looked haunted, hell, Josie was barely supressing a tremor from the memory.

            “And what happened then?” Caroline asked softly. Her daughters had seen death while she was away. No matter how important the research she was doing was, Caroline was not there to protect her daughter’s innocence and it killed her inside; even if it seems they had come out the stronger for it.

            “We killed it,” Hope replied unceremoniously, almost haughtily. When everyone looked at Hope, the clear difference between her and the twins really sank home for everyone. The casualness of her demeanor set against the clearly traumatic experience the other two teenage girls had. Hope had been there, done that.

            Noticing the look Alaric was giving her, Hope continued, “But it was a near thing. Josie almost died. And before that, Lizzie nearly got disembowelled by a gargoyle and turned to stone.” At the horrified look Caroline was giving her, Hope decided to press on, “So I came up with a contingency. Well, a contingency regarding Josie and Lizzie, and a more proactive plan in the meantime.” Noticing that Alaric didn’t exactly predict her deviation from their earlier agreement, she decided to push her luck with other voices of authority present. “I’d like to include a self defence classes for witches. Specifically I’ll teach these two danger magnets, but I think everyone should be able to defend themselves. The danger isn’t waiting for everyone to be ‘old enough’. Kaleb has proven that the danger is inside the walls too.”

            Alaric had a severely peeved look on his face, but upon noticing Caroline’s thoughtful gaze at Hope’s words, he knew it would be unwise to shoot Hope’s proposition down in front of the headmistress.

            “We’ll table that plan for the moment,” Caroline said after a spell. “What is the ‘contingency’ you’re talking about?”

            Hope looked at Josie to continue this. It would be better for Caroline to hear it from her daughters after all.

            Rising to the occasion Josie continued where Hope left off, “We drank Hope’s blood so if we die we’ll become hybrids.”

            Silence.

            Silence.

            “WHAT THE FUCK.”

             None of the people in the room had spoken.

            Everyone turned, Freya simultaneously burst the door open and subdued the eavesdropper. Her pale hand was outstretched in a mirror of Darth Vader, the eavesdropper was dangling two feet off the ground, choking in Freya’s grasp. Her feet were kicking, searching for some purchase. Her hands were around her throat, her face contorted in panic compounded with her sudden depravation of oxygen.

            Josie gasped, Hope face palmed, and Lizzie let out a victorious cry. The girl in Freya’s psychokinetic choke hold was none other than Satan herself: Penelope Park.


	10. The 3rd Degree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope gets questioned.

 

CHAPTER 10

            Hope lightly tapped Freya’s arm before Alaric could decide to lose his shit on; a) Penelope eavesdropping girl who broke his daughter’s heart, b) Marcel, for not hearing the eavesdropper, or c) the Mikaelson who was currently living out her Darth Vader fantasy... Penelope dropped to the ground and was promptly _summoned_ inside once Freya deemed the coast clear. Nobody else saw what just happened. More importantly, nobody heard.

            The doors mutely slammed shut; courtesy of Hope, who had remained in her seat for the whole altercation.

            Penelope was dropped in a gasping heap. Caroline was looking at her with a disapproving look. Lizzie was fixing with her with an aggressive expression of savage glee. Josie looked worried. Alaric was trying to compartmentalize his anger…and failing. Marcel just looked bemused, and Hope was clearly wearing her thinking cap.

            Penelope, much to her credit, had recovered quickly, looking up into the unforgiving eyes of Freya Mikaelson. “Let’s all calm down,” Caroline said diplomatically.   
            Freya sat down slowly, more like dragged into her seat by Hope. Penelope noticed that, and quickly scurried to her feet. Eavesdropping on Alaric and Caroline? OK. Eavesdropping on Hope, Josie, and Lizzie, in addition to two strangers? Also OK.

            When one of those strangers was Freya Mikaelson however? That was a solid NOPE. All the witches and vampires had heard _some_ variation of the horror stories coming out of New Orleans over the last decade and a half. Many of those stories involved the eldest Mikaelson sibling to some degree, and even the contradicting stories made her out to be somebody only the defeated dead seemed to cross.

            “I’m so sorry!” Penelope managed. Her face was paler than anyone in the room had ever seen it. Fear was a new look on Penelope for everyone.

            “And you are?” Freya asked softly, but in no way less threatening.

            “Pen–Penelope,” the terrified teen managed.

            “Well then _Penny_ , care to explain why you were listening in on us? And how you were able to mask your presence?” Freya asked.

            Penelope shot Alaric a panicked look, but he seemed mostly in line with Freya. Audibly swallowing, Penelope whispered, “I thought it was odd that Dr. Saltzman blew off classes today, and that neither Hope nor his daughters were anywhere to be seen. Lizzie blowing off class isn’t too uncommon,” Lizzie harrumphed, “but Hope doesn’t miss classes anymore, and neither does Josie. So I thought something was… _afoot_. We’ve been under attack recently, something might’ve been really wrong.” All solid arguments, but the people who knew her, knew better.

            “And when you realised what you were eavesdropping on, why didn’t you stop?” Hope asked.

            “Would you?” Penelope replied.

           Marcel tried and failed to hold in a chuckle at Penelope’s retort aimed at Hope. The tribrid returned a look that prompted Marcel to say, “What? She’s got a point there.” The other adults in the room fixed him with varying reproachful glares.

            The Saltzman twins however looked upon him in a new light, who knew Hope’s much older adopted brother was such a rebel? There was a lull, nobody spoke, just sent each other some significant looks. Freya was clenching and releasing her hand, like she wanted to rip Penelope’s heart out or something equally unpleasant. The dark-haired witch was not unobservant of this, and noticeably flinched away from the blonde.

            “So what now?” Lizzie asked with a little less of her usual haughtiness. Judging by the looks around the room, nobody was quite sure. It wasn’t exactly a life-or-death situation. But it could become one. If it was public knowledge that Hope was giving her blood to the two witches who could become hybrids? Things could get ugly in unpredictable ways.

            “Well, I suppose asking nicely won’t suffice, will it?” Josie asked with edge.

            “Are there any unbreakable vows that can be taken?” Lizzie followed up.

            “This isn’t Harry Potter,” Penelope muttered.

            “No. It’s not, and no, Lizzie, there isn’t,” Freya said. “There are magical oaths, yes, but not ones that you can expect to keep when made under coercion.”

            At Hope’s inquiring look, Freya mouthed, ‘Later.’

Alaric realised that contorting his jaw in anymore stress would see him reprimanded by his dentist so he said, “Penelope, what would you do, if you were in my place?”

“Seriously?!”

“Dad, I don’t think–,”

“Girls, please,” Alaric said firmly. He turned his gaze to the equally flabbergasted Penelope.

The room was quiet in anticipation. The only two people who seemed to be aloof were Hope and Marcel. Caroline seemed less incensed than Alaric or their daughters, but Freya seemed personally insulted by the whole eavesdropping thing.

“I don’t know,” Penelope at least had the grace to look cowed.

“I have an idea,” Hope’s lilt of a threat echoed throughout the room.

            Freya turned to her niece, eyebrow raise. The other adults in the room also turned their heads or eyes to the young woman. They recognized that tone; the way Hope let that phrase hang in the air, it was an uncanny resemblance.

            Penelope looked at hope with real fear. She may not have ever met Klaus Mikaelson, but the perturbed expressions on her Headmaster and Headmistress’ faces were enough of a tell to suggest there was real danger in the air. Especially when Hope’s _family_ were _here_ to back her up.

Josie and Lizzie quickly exchanged meaningful glances before, “We can’t kill her Hope,” Lizzie spoke up quickly, unexpectedly.

“Or tamper with her memories,” Josie spoke up as well, aiming her words at both Freya and Hope. Freya seemed to properly take notice of the young brunette all of a sudden. To her credit, Josie didn’t shirk from the much more powerful supernatural’s gaze.

“Well,” Freya drawled, “if you _insist_.”

“Dammit Freya,” Caroline groaned. Freya put her hands up in a darkly humorous ‘what? me?’ gesture.

Alaric was just rubbing the bridge of his nose. ‘How the hell did this get so out of control so quickly?’ Anybody who knew him did not need him to verbalize his thoughts. He was broadcasting them loud and clear.

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” Penelope swore unwaveringly. “I won’t. But I also want to know how dangerous things really are.” Penelope’s fear was slowly turning into something resembling determination. It was an attempt to distance herself from Freya and Hope’s anger, but it was not a foolish request either.

Hope eyed Penelope curiously and decided to put her ire aside for a moment to capitalize on the opportunity Penelope’s words opened up, “Pretty dangerous. We don’t know what the knife is, or what it does, or why Landon and every other _non-standard_ supernatural we encounter wants it so badly. But we do know more will come. And frankly as things are,” she paused, now talking directly to her two professors, “most of the witches in particular are fodder. The werewolves have a new alpha in Rafael. The vampires are well, vampires, they’ll be fine. But other than home or illicitly-learned torture spells, the witches of this school are vulnerable.”

Caroline spoke up, “We don’t want chaos,” Hope nodded. Not an unexpected answer. To be fair to the forever-young mother, witches uncontrolled could be a fucking menace, and everyone knew it.

“Chaos? Like vampires getting off with a wrist slap for attacking the sheriff and compelling cheerleaders like Dana to do god knows what with him? Kaleb is just gonna do it again once his time-out is over,” Lizzie’s venomous hiss, surprising everyone. “What? Am I out of line? We know at he at least drank from Dana, but all the other cheerleaders had similar marks. Do we know it was _just him?_ MG caught him with Dana, but what about the other girls?” she fixed both her parents with a dark stare, “look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t kill the vampire if _that_ happened to Josie or me. Tell me.”

Caroline started to say something, but she choked on air and thought better of it. Alaric sat back in contemplation. “Putting Vervain in the tap water won’t always protect us you know,” Josie added quietly. “We aren’t saying the girls were raped, but it’s still an intimate violation and you know it. Wiping her memory of it can’t sit well with you.”

Freya nodded her kudos at the young twins. Alaric and Caroline’s pained and obviously conflicting reactions drew every eye but hers. But she noticed both Hope and Penelope had identically protective, albeit better hidden, reactions than Alaric and Caroline. Hmm.

“Alright,” Caroline said softly, drawing a measured look from Alaric. She shot his complaint down without words, “You can learn offensive magic. _Limited_ , but certainly strong enough to put down a vampire. It’s only fair, since I’m sure Hope’s gotten all sorts of tutoring,” Caroline looked at Freya, asking for input.

“Yeah. Even if Hayley didn’t ask, I would’ve taught Hope offense anyway. Granted, the enemies of the Mikaelson Family are not standard, and are far more than your lowly _Kaleb_ ,” she said as she poked Marcel in the arm. He had the dignity to look embarrassed.

            “Thank you,” Hope said, addressing Caroline. Hope knew she and Alaric would have to hash out her betrayal of their arrangement, but she knew it would be okay between them. “Now regarding Penelope, I have a solution.” The girl in question stiffened, but there was a commotion that cut off Hope’s verdict.

           

Emma the counsellor burst through the doors, “Alaric, we’ve got a problem!” Instantly, everyone was on their feet. “What’s the situation,” Alaric queried as he located and equipped his crossbow.

            “There’s a Cyclops trying to smash down the front gates, my boundary spell is holding, but not for much longer,” Emma wheezed as she tried to catch her breath.

            “Well, it’s show time then isn’t it?” Marcel chipped in as he rose to his feet and cracked his neck in the most aggressively masculine way possible.

            Freya rolled her eyes, but she nodded, summoning the knife to her, eyes blazing as the blade ignited at her touch, a predatory grin split her face, “Let’s see what we can do.”

Freya turned to the headmasters and declared, “We’ve got this, but you should have some of your witches put up additional boundaries up around the mansion once everyone’s inside.” Alaric nodded as Freya and Marcel swiftly moved past Emma into the hallway.

            Hope’s eyes lit up her face as she watched them go, but it wasn’t predatory anticipation like her aunt. Josie noticed with a barely noticeable hitch in her breath that she was seeing what unconditional love _looked like_ on Hope’s face.


	11. Not Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little intense.

CHAPTER 11

[minor Trigger Warning for self-harm, similar to my last warning. No suicidal ideation attached.]

 

            Pandemonium. There were screaming children everywhere; it was all Emma could do to corral them towards the mansion. _Where the fuck did that monster come from?_ There was a Cyclops pounding at the gate. The metal rattled with each blow. _Because of course there was a thrice-damned Cyclops at the gate; must be Thursday!_ Without further ado, Emma activated the four-tiered boundary lines inside the ground, hopefully that would slow the monster down. The sun was going down behind it, so that the Cyclops’ overly long shadow extended almost to the doors of the school.

            “Emma! What do we do?” one of the little ones was yelling at Emma in panic. Pedro. Emma quickly gathered him in her arms, making sure he was the last kid on the grounds before stepping inside, locking the door and casting another boundary spell on it.

Alaric had guests, he specifically asked not to be disturbed, but this was priority one. Luckily, his office was on the first floor. Panting from her sprint, she opened the doors, , “Alaric, we’ve got a problem!” The people in the room instantly rose to their feet. If the situation were different, Emma would’ve parsed out why the hell there was another Mikaelson here, but now wasn’t the time. But Caroline sent her a small smile, good. At least there was at least one other dependable face here to help sort out this madness.

“What’s the situation,” Alaric asked while he swiftly lifted down his favourite crossbow from its perch.

            “There’s a Cyclops trying to smash down the front gates, my boundary spell is holding, but not for much longer,” Emma wheezed as she tried to catch her breath.

            The Mikaelson, Freya, Emma realised with a small gasp, replied, “We’ve got this, but you should have some of your witches put up additional boundaries up around the mansion once everyone’s inside.”

            As Freya and the stranger brushed past her she called after them, “I already set up another,” Freya didn’t turn back, or acknowledge her, but the man did. He simply raised a ‘thumbs up’ sign as they turned around the corner and out of sight.

            Caroline lightly gripped Emma’s shoulder, encouraging her to regain her breath. “Are the children accounted for?” she asked firmly.

            “Yes. MG and Rafael were leading them to the gym,” Emma replied.

            “The new Alpha wolf,” Alaric supplied at Caroline’s brief look of confusion, which disappeared just as quickly. “You four, join the other kids in the gym, he said as the three adults also left the room.

           

 

 

            There was a beat of silence before all four girls had varying reactions to Alaric side-lining them like that

            “Fuck that.”

            “As if.”

            “Not again.”

            “Second story balcony has the best view,” Penelope pointed out casually. The other three girls looked to her for a moment before she shrugged, “What? You think I’m missing a chance to watch Freya fucking Mikaelson kill a mythical monster? It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

            “Penelope, if you were me, how would you secure your silence on the whole tribrid blood topic?” Hope asked abruptly.

            Penelope had a clear dark look cross her face once the surprise wore off. _Hope using Alaric’s tactic? What’s going on–_

            Before the twins or Penelope could move, Hope had flexed her hand by her side, and suddenly Penelope was immobilized. The doors slammed closed. “If you hadn’t eavesdropped, I wouldn’t have bothered with this, but here we are.”

            “Wait, Hope, what are you doing?” Penelope scowled. Hope didn’t bother gagging Penelope, because that would’ve been tacky.

            “Not hurting you. Yet. But if I do, then it will be because you sold out the twins,” Hope said coldly. In a quick move, she slipped a small razor blade from her sleeve and opened one of her fingers.

            Three sets of eyes widened, _Oh. So that’s what Hope was doing…_

            “You’re giving her your blood too?” Josie asked, admirably not cracking in clear anxiousness.

 

            “Hope, are you sure about this?” Lizzie asked in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

            “If you have a better way to _ensure_ your new diet remains a secret, please tell me now. Seriously. One of the vampire purists who helped killed my mother was a Nazi named Roman, and he was here for a while and may have acolytes still here for all I know. I’ve had all manner of supernaturals trying to kill me since before I was born, and all the time since, because I wasn’t ‘pure’ one species or another; or because they wanted my powers as a tribrid, or as a powerful sacrifice, or a _vessel_. Hybrids wouldn’t be treated much differently, especially since if either of you were turned, you’d be exactly two of three witch/vampire hybrids in the world that we know of.” Hope was on a roll, and the other three girls looked upon her with mixed expressions of sympathy, fear, and more fear.

 

Unaffected by their expressions, Hope continued without pause, “I’m not exaggerating the danger of this secret getting out. If the wrong person knew you had my blood in your system, they could kill you, and once turned, they could imprison you and sacrifice you achieving gods know what kind of power. Or they could coercer you into doing magic that ordinary witches would never be capable of for their own gains, like binding you to them, and making you their nearly invincible slave; their one-woman army. _That_ was the horror my much-more-powerful-than-all-of-us _Aunt Freya_ lived for the last thousand years.

So tell me. Josie? Lizzie? Do you have an alternative plan on securing Penelope’s compliance keeping _your_ new vulnerability a secret?” Neither of the Saltzman twins came up with an answer on the spot, so Hope turned her face back to Penelope, who was still immobilised.

 

Hope’s voice lost its heat and became chillingly calm, “I’m going to make you swallow some of my blood. If I hear a _breath_ even insinuating that the twins are on my blood from the student body, I will blame you, and snap your neck. _When_ you turn, your magic will be gone. And I know how much pride you take in your powers and heritage,” Hope said quietly. Without much ceremony, she twisted her hand, dropping Penelope to her knees, while at the same time, she raised her other hand so it was dripping blood from her finger, moving inexorably towards Penelope’s mouth.

 

There was silence, and then…

 

            “I won’t tell! PLEASE! People talk, people might figure it out on their own! I don’t wanna be a vampire!” Penelope’s devil-may-care veneer was gone, and in it’s place was a terrified girl who was so uncomfortably _vulnerable_. “Hope, I won’t tell! I won’t! I wouldn’t hurt _the_ _twins_ like that. You HAVE to know that! My powers are all I have left of my sister, please don’t take that away from me!”

 

            Hope was immovable by Penelope’s increasingly desperate pleas. Her hand was over Penelope’s face now. Penelope managed to turn her face so the blood landed on her cheek, not her tongue and down her gullet.

            “I WON’T BETRAY THEM!” Penelope was beginning to hysterically cry, tears mingling with the flecks of blood on her cheek. In her desperation, she appealed to somebody else, “JOSIE, TELL HER, PLEASE!”

            “Hope, please stop.”

Nothing changed, except Hope grabbing Penelope’s face in her free hand, turning the frantically sobbing girl’s face upwards to forcibly swallow her life-altering blood.

 

            _CRUNCH!_

At once, Hope relinquished Penelope, whose immobility was broken with the tribrid’s concentration shattered by the blow to the side of her face. Blood spurted as Hope’s teeth went through her lip.

Penelope crumpled into herself, still sobbing; snot, tears, and flecks of Hope’s blood marred her face.

            Hope’s bleeding hand slowly reached up self-consciously caressing the immediately darkening bruise on her lower cheek and jaw, blood began to ooze from her lower lip down her chin. Eyes wide in shock, she turned to face cold blue eyes looking down on her: Lizzie’s eyes.

The blonde’s hand was shaking at her side, knuckles bleeding and definitely disfigured. Her voice quietly contrasted the rather loud action she had just taken to aid Penelope, “I don’t know what the hell went on in New Orleans…but _this?_ THIS isn’t who _we_ are, _Mikaelson_.”

            Without a word further, Lizzie Saltzman gathered a messily sniffling Penelope Park in her arms and strode out of her father’s office, spartan-kicking the doors open, leaving Josie and Hope stunned in her wake.

 

 


	12. Boss Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya and Marcel v.s. The Cyclops

 

CHAPTER 12

            “So, how we gonna do this?” Marcel asked as he cracked his knuckles. The Cyclops waded through the wreckage of the outer gate, as he proceeded to the next barrier Emma set up. The clouds overhead opened up, accentuating the mood of the attack. The monster was at least three people high, probably closer to twenty feet tall. Its club was clearly just as long as Marcel or Freya was tall.

            “Kill it as quickly as possible,” Freya responded with a dark gleam in her eyes. “I got a little ahead of myself back there in front of the others. We can test our heightened baseline against opponents whose baseline powers we’re familiar with.” She swiped wet hair out of her eyes. Since her daughter was born, she had let her hair grow out. She nearly cut it, but one remark from Rebekah about how the lovely little baby adored playing with her blonde locks and Freya couldn’t bear to take that away from her daughter.

But now was not the time to make costly mistakes because of hindered vision.

            “’As quickly as possible,’ I suppose I can manage that,” Marcel replied with a vicious smirk, surveying their opponent. “We’ll have to experiment on asshole vampires and werewolves at some point though right?”

            “Yep. And hostile witches,” Freya replied. “Have any ideas about this fellow?”

            The Cyclops had gotten through the third of the four barriers that Emma had set up.

            Marcel sprinted out to meet it. The Cyclops was fast for its size. It took an upward vertical swing at the Uber vampire, just missing him, though it was close enough that Marcel was able to nimbly hang on to the club. The world tilted for him as he was carried along the arc of the club, terminating at nearly a 90º angle, with Marcel still clinging onto it.

            Freya entered the fray wit a little more dignity, testing out one of her favourite torture spells. When her pale hand began forming into a soft fist, the Cyclops roared in agony, dropping the massive club. Marcel landed with the gargantuan melee weapon on top of him, driving him into the soil.

            Despite herself, Freya started at that, but she needn’t have worried as Marcel pushed the two metre club off of him with a distinctly offended expression.

            The Cyclops let out a bellow beginning to trudge forward, club forgotten in his urgency to eliminate the pain, having recognized Freya as the root of his blinding migraine. Marcel saw this, and as casual as you like, picked the handle of the club and swung it in a swift and deadly arc, taking the feet out from under the brute.

            The wet snapping sound as the Cyclops’ various leg bones were broken resounded around the grounds. Marcel let out a laugh at his victorious maneuverer. Perhaps in a fit of adrenaline, the monster rose to its knees and swiftly grabbed the club back from Marcel, using it’s momentum to hurl the vampire towards the school buildings.

 

 _‘Oh no,’_ Freya thought belatedly as she watched Marcel’s expression turn from a smirk to mild horror.

 

            Marcel smashed into the boundary spell protecting the school with a deafening crackle of magic, like a bug being zapped, and fell to the ground. He did not rise again.

            Now back in possession of it’s club, and head clear while Freya briefly lost concentration, the monster used the club to hobble closer to her.

            Now less than three meters apart, the Cyclops was well within striking distance of the witch. The rain dripped off of the club, and the blood pool from his mangled legs began to soak the ground at Freya’s feet.

            There was a shout from inside, but Freya ignored it. She spared a quick glance at Marcel, who was stirring now. The Cyclops’ eye was a murky green, ocean green tainted with blood or mud.

Up close, his size was undeniable, even on his knees. It occurred to Freya with a uncomfortable twist of dread in her gut, that the Cyclops was big enough to nearly swallow her whole if he felt so inclined. Polyphemus of _Odyssey_ myth was a people eater after all. Would she be able to blast out of his stomach if that happened? Or would she scream in vain as she was digested? And if he chose not to swallow her whole, then his teeth each as big as one of her hands splayed out would be more than enough to render her into bite sized portions. ––– **NO**

            Freya was **_done_ **contemplating a hypothetical and very dark end. Recovering her wits, she noticed he was less interested in eating her than he was just ridding the world of her.           

            Her momentary involuntary spiral of fear gave the Cyclops the chance to prepare for a final blow. His legs were useless, and he had to know deep down he wasn’t walking away from this. As his hand was about to descend, Freya called out in her mother tongue while raising her left hand, blazing cursed blade held horizontally, as if to shield herself from the unconquerable strike coming her way.

            There was a silent flash. Time seemed to slow. The Cyclops watched in horror as a violet stroke from the heavens _erased_ his hand, shutting down his nervous system, and shattered his club into flaming fragments. The light seemed to reach out in a deliberate flicker to ender the creature’s chest, stopping his heart. But by the time the Cyclops realised what just happened, the light was already gone from its eye.

The lightning bolt found it’s way to the ground via Freya, as she stood sure-footed as the wildly powerful electric charge struck the blade, entered her hand, and travelled down her body, and exited her foot, finding its home in the soil. The lightning’s electric field scored its path down Freya’s pale body in branches of angry red as she cut the brief silence with a chilling scream; only to be gone and driven to the ground by the thunderclap.

            The windows of the Salvatore school rattled and cracked as the close-quarters thunderclap shattered the final boundary spell Emma erected.

Both Freya and Cyclops fell to the ground. The witch fell twitching, trying in vain to control her body’s agonizing spasms, and the Cyclops with a hollow death rattle as the lightning had stopped his heart.

            Freya desperately tried to fill her lungs as she turtled back onto her front. She did see the life leave that monster’s giant eye, so at least that was one thing settled.

She could dimly make out multiple forms over where Marcel had fell, and a couple of them approaching her. ‘ _Got stalemated like a brash rookie; by a dumb fucking Cyclops no less…Keelin’s gonna be so angry with me,’_ Freya thought helplessly as she lost consciousness, left hand still unconsciously clutching the hilt of the cursed blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought of this chapter? Writing action isn't my usual strength, so I'd like to know what to improve for next time. Thanks in advance for your thoughts!


	13. Outburst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope and Marcel have a talk about what just happened.

 

CHAPTER 13

            Hope didn’t need to search herself deep down to know Aunt Freya’s scream as the lightning entered her would be an eternally recurring nightmare.

            Marcel was awake two minutes after the boundary spell knocked him down for the count. A couple bags of the animal blood from the fridge set him right. His bitching about the taste put all concerns for him to rest. Hope even felt confident enough to smack him over the head playfully.

            Freya was another story. She hadn’t woken up yet, though all her systems were normal. Unfortunately the scarring from the lighting would probably be permanent. Emma had cut the clothes off her when they brought her to the room they were using as a makeshift medical theatre, the lightning did not spare here expensive jacket and blouse. Now, she had a blanket over her, and Marcel and Hope were on the couch by her side.

            “She’ll be alright Hope,” Marcel said as they both sat beside her bed. “Emma over there confirmed she’s really just sleeping off the exhaustion at this point, she’ll be awake soon and we can all have that dinner Alaric promised,” he finished with a small ribbing.

            Hope’s mouth almost formed a smile, but not quite. They did _not_ in fact have dinner during their earlier conference of sorts with the Saltzman family and Caroline. Too many interruptions.

            “I feel like this was my fault somehow,” Hope said softly.

            “Well it’s not,” Marcel replied. His tone brooked no offer of retort. “Freya and I nearly got our asses handed to us today because we were cocky.”

            “All of the shit that happened today with the Cyclops comes back to the damned dagger, and that is on me,” Hope replied morosely.

            Marcel tried in vain to intercede, “The Cyclops–,”

            “The Cyclops was compelled to attack the school because of the dagger!” Hope replied hotly. “That dagger that was activated because I was a fool to trust a _boy_. And now Freya’s unconscious–,”

            “Sleeping,” Marcel corrected.

            Hope huffed in frustration, “How come she didn’t just snap its neck from the start? Or conjure an earthen spear and impale it from the ground? Lighting?! What the fuck was she thinking? She could’ve _DIED_!”

            Marcel brought the despairing teen into a warm hug. “And she didn’t. We are both okay. Everything’s okay Hope.”

            “Look at her,” Hope replied, gesturing to the angry vines of scarring adorning Freya’s previously flawless pale skin. “Keelin’s gonna be so mad, and you two are only here because of _me_! I know she won’t be mad _at me_ , but that’s almost worse. It may not be my _fault_ exactly, but it’s _because_ of _ME_ that our family keeps suffering.”

            “Hope, look–,”Marcel tried in vain again to wrangle the teenager’s misplaced guilt.

 

            “No, Marcel. To varying degrees, I had a hand in each of my parents’ deaths. Parents I loved so much…you loved, everyone loved…I don’t think I’ll ever be ‘totally fine’, Marcel.” Hope responded, holding onto her escaping emotions the best she could, and rapidly failing. “How are you so _okay_ with me?”

“Hope. Stop!” Marcel’s voice finally cut through to her.

Hope stopped short as his words brought back the situation she landed herself in _before_ everything went to shit with the Cyclops. How _petrified_ Penelope had been of her, the look in Lizzie’s eyes as she sided with her mortal enemy to _protect her_ from the big, bad, Tribrid.

Hope remembered Josie’s conflicted expression as she left Hope to help out Emma. Hope shook her head and made to stand up, breaking away from Marcel as she trembled before the bed. Taking in Freya’s somehow sleeping form once more, Hope tearfully declared, ”I ruin _everything_!” before leaving Marcel and Freya alone.

           

            Not that Josie was trying to eavesdrop exactly, but Hope’s final shouts before she tore down the hallway were quite loud. Josie had been helping Emma with a few of the kids who had minor injuries and were slightly terrified after Freya Mikaelson’s Thor imitation shook the whole school. It wasn’t everyday when a thunderclap happened right outside the building. Hope flew past the brunette in a blur of muted red as the youngest Mikaelson’s hair flipped around the corner, no doubt going to her room.

            It was a couple moments later that Marcel Gerard exited the room where Freya lay rubbing the back of his neck, no doubt cursing Hayley and Klaus for bringing this teen drama into the world. Or at least, that’s what Josie thought he looked like. “Hi,” Josie said with an awkward wave. “From experience, you should probably let her cool down a little before re-engaging with her,” Josie said as she properly stood up away from the kid she was patching up.

            Marcel considered the young siphoner in front of him before replying, “It’s what she’ll do before she cools down that worries me, kid.”

            Josie nodded, “Maybe I could talk to her? There was some stuff that went down right before your fight that’s probably weighing on her right now too. Besides, somebody Freya knows should be next to her when she wakes.”

            Marcel turned back to Freya’s sleeping form, and then regarded Josie with an intense look, “You think you can help her little Saltzman?”

“Yes,” Josie didn’t hesitate.

Marcel shrugged, acknowledging the wisdom of Josie’s plan before saying, “Good luck.”

Josie quickly double-checked the little witch girl who scraped her knee falling off her desk. Then she walked to Hope’s room, and knocked on the door before she lost her confidence. “Fuck off.”

Josie pinched the bridge of her nose, ‘fuck off’ was not the best response she was hoping for, but luckily she had little qualms about Hope’s privacy right now. The siphoner twisted her hand imperiously and the lock clicked. Taking her advantage, she quickly opened the door, stepped inside, and shut the door behind her, reflexively locking the door.

“What exactly do you want Josie?” Hope asked.

Josie gasped at the sight of her. Apparently, in the five minutes since Hope left

Marcel and Freya, she had managed to down several shots of alcohol; if the uncapped bottle on her bedside table was anything to judge by. Josie ignored Hope’s question. She approached the bedside table slowly, and when Hope didn’t interfere, she picked up the bottle of disgusting poison and downed a generous swallow herself before sitting down on the bed next to Hope. They sat in silence for a moment before Josie took another swig.

            “I think you need to talk huh?” Josie replied at length as she felt the fuzz settle on her brain.


	14. No Take Backs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some dynamics change.

 

CHAPTER 14

            “Just breathe, okay?” Lizzie whispered as she paced around her room. “Everything is _just fine_ ,” her whispering was becoming slightly more manic the longer she paced. Penelope was watching her nemesis pace like a mad woman.

            The thunderclap had come not long after they arrived. Neither of them knew what to do, but Alaric had since sent a messenger to the dorms reassuring everyone holed up that the danger had passed for the moment. There were many minutes spent with Lizzie pacing, muttering assurances to herself and Penelope looking kind of out of it.

            There were tear/mascara tracks running down Penelope’s face reaching as far down as her jawline. “What the fuck was she thinking?” Lizzie said into the quite cloud that had long since settled over the two enemies.

            “Are you alright?” Penelope asked. Her voice was raspy and guarded.

            “No I’m fucking not…are you?” Lizzie responded. She managed to soften her tone at the end, not wanting to upset Penelope even more for reasons the blonde couldn’t quite place.

            “Not a chance,” Penelope confessed. The sheer amount of terror Hope instilled in Josie’s ex-girlfriend had clearly torn through some of her mean-girl walls. “Was she like that when she made you drink her blood?”

            Lizzie considered for a moment before saying, “Well, she was a little more quietly psycho about it. Like, I didn’t think she’d have gone ape shit like she did with you. But Josie seemed to see that kind of thing was just under the surface. We just drank. Well, Josie drank without hesitation. I… _spilled_ my first glass of her blood, but drank the second one just before the Valkyrie and Black Jesus showed up.”

            Penelope let out a hollow snort, “Black Jesus? Really?”

            “Did you _see_ him? I mean, he might not have a beard or whatever, but _fuck…_ I’d _pray_ to him if you know what I mean. Tell me you’ve seen a better looking guy recently, or ever,” Lizzie said matter-of-factly.

            Penelope just shook her head. There were another few moments of quiet punctuated by somebody storming down the hall and slamming a door, which both girls chose to ignore.

            “Thanks for saving me from Hope,” Penelope said after a while of silence. “I didn’t think she’d be so _scary_. Like, I’ve done some scary shit to _enemies_ of mine in the past…but I’m her _classmate_. I haven’t spoken more than ten minutes with her the whole time I’ve known her.”

            Lizzie nodded, “Neither have I or Josie, really. I think they bonded during our god-awful community service stint, but other than that she’s secluded herself. She was way out of line. What she almost did. I’ve never seen her like that before, never seen the _Mikaelson_ side of her so clearly. Like, She saved us from monsters sure, and she was violent as fuck about it. But this was different. You may be a bitch, but Hope was still wrong.”

            Penelope fixed Lizzie with a _look_ that Lizzie wasn’t quite sure what to do with, but then the dark-haired girl said, “Thanks. Seriously. You didn’t have to help me. I mean, I was a bitch to you, and Josie, kinda. Even though she set me on fire without remorse… _why did you save me?_ ” the question just burst out. Penelope couldn’t help herself, she had to know _why_ everything was now suddenly different. The whole dynamic between _everybody_ was different now.

            It was Lizzie’s turn to be quiet. “I didn’t like seeing you scared.”

            “You didn’t like seeing me scared? What’s that supposed to mean?” Penelope scoffed despite herself. Tact was never really her forte anyway.

            “Look, you’re the cunning, skanky, A-plus-plus know-it-all who dated my sister, my _twin_. And she _loved_ you, Park. She really did. And then you broke her fucking beautiful heart to pieces.” Lizzie obviously got a little distracted going down this tangent.

            Penelope looked ready to intercede on her own behalf, but Lizzie cut her off with a harsh gesture, “No, you did. And I’m not saying it didn’t hurt you too, but you were visibly much better off post-break up. And–,”

            Penelope wouldn’t be stopped this time, “I’m much better at lying to people with my actions that Jo is. Especially when I’m dying inside. You think I _wasn’t_ –,” Penelope rose to her feet in anger.

            “Hurting?” Lizzie spat, staring her down, “I really didn’t care at the time, but your actions after the break up really only solidified how I viewed you. And before you ask, fuck yeah I hated you. I still kind of do actually,” Lizzie was breathing hard, she was towering over the other girl who was almost hissing mad.

            “Big news Blondie, I already knew you hated me. Hell, I hated myself after for a while, but our relationship was always doomed when you were part of the equation. And I know that now.”

It was Penelope who was on a roll now, pushing the blonde back a step with her sheer presence despite being nearly a head shorter, “You sucked up all the air around her, you sabotaged _multiple_ dates of ours, you belittled me to her behind my back, AND to my face, in front of her no less; time and time again. What chance did _we_ have when the person Josie loved most _in the world_ didn’t approve of me? I wasn’t perfect Lizzie, but I tried _so hard_ for her, and apparently it was never enough. Not for _you._ ” Penelope had a watery shine to her eyes now, the emotions were forcing new tears down her cheeks.

“You broke up with her!,” Lizzie shot back.

“BECAUSE THE BOTH OF US WERE TEARING HER APART. I couldn’t bring myself to make her choose. She’ll always choose you.” Penelope had new tears running down her face. The horror of being at Hope’s mercy _almost_ driven from her mind as her most painful romantic failure was brought back into sharp relief.

There was silence for a solid minute following Penelope’s declaration. Both girls took heavy breaths before Penelope spoke up again, having remembered the question that sent them down this fucking rabbit hole. “You clearly wanted me _gone_ , so why the hell didn’t you let Hope destroy my magic huh? You would’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted. Josie would never have to see me again, because as a vampire, I’d leave this school and not come back, and I think you knew that. I’d never be able to face Hope again…or risk killing _anybody_ _here_ in a bloodrage.”

“Because seeing you terrified like that was wrong!” Lizzie shouted back. “It was _wrong._ ” Lizzie didn’t realise it, but Penelope’s words hit deep, and Lizzie’s eyes were just as watery as the other girl’s.

“Why did you sabotage Josie’s relationship with me?” Penelope asked softly. Her emotions were nearly spent.

 

Lizzie’s emotions where not in fact spent, and before she knew it, she had bent down slightly, took Penelope’s cheeks in her hands, and laid a very wet and emotionally charged kiss on Penelope’s open mouth.

It was several moments before Lizzie pulled back.

There was a beat of mildly horrified silence.

Both of them were blushing like mad.

There were two pairs of _very_ wide eyes and heavy breathing before Lizzie promptly turned on her heel and fled her room, not even bothering to close the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do let me know what you think about this one please. And yes, it's a ship I had planned from basically the beginning.


	15. Hope's Flower Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope and Josie talk.

CHAPTER 15

            “Hope, what’s wrong?” Josie asked as soon as she felt the buzz of the alcohol. One of the few things that remained equal between her and her sister: they were both light weights when it came to alcohol.

            Hope on the other hand? Josie looked over at the tribrid sitting two feet from her, she’d already drank thrice what Josie had. And that was _after_ Josie had arrived. Jesus Christ the tribrid was a mess; a mess that Josie felt wholly unprepared to deal with. “I’m a–hic–monster,” Hope replied with an ill-timed hiccup.

            Josie’s eyes widened, _oh boy, this is gonna be rough._ “That's a lot to unpack. I’m not drunk enough, give me a minute.” Josie spared a glance outside, the sun had set a little while ago now. She knew that this drinking binge for Hope would’ve happened in the middle of the day if the events leading up to it were earlier. At least this way, they only taboo they were breaking was the underage one, and not day-drinking. She had standards…probably. Josie really hoped she remembered this tomorrow. She took out her iPhone and activated the voice memo app while Hope went fishing around for another swig of alcohol from a pocket sized Bacardi bottle Hope seemed to pull out of fucking nowhere. She threw the phone behind her, knowing it would still pick up their conversation.

It occurred to Josie that maybe one of the worst things Hope may have inherited from the Mikaelson side of the family was a penchant for alcoholism. But Josie knew _that_ particular issue should be addressed later.

            “Hope, you’re not a monster,” Josie said as soon as she felt her brain fuzz up a little.

            “How can you say that? You saw what I nearly did to Penelope. I was going to force my blood down her throat and then probably snap her neck. Well, I would’ve waited for the neck snapping part…that doesn’t make me a good person, or even okay to be around.”

            Josie was trying to reconcile the crying red-headed mess in front of her with the calm and poised apex predator she normally presented herself as. There was a part of Josie’s alcohol addled brain that was fixated on how adorable Despairing Hope was. She tried to shake off that feeling, but it didn’t quite leave her.

            “I like being around you,” Josie said softly. “Why is it do you think you freaked out earlier? Like, not that I’m not grateful or whatever, but why do you care so much about us enough to hurt other classmates,” _hurt Penelope_ , she didn’t say aloud. Josie still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It was scary. But the part of her that enjoyed the shit out of yandere nonsense in the anime she watched, or manga she read, that had to admit Hope’s extreme solution was the slightest bit endearing. Nobody had been willing to go that far for her (or her sister) like that before. Well, maybe her parents…and Bonnie Bennet, but those were just hazy memories from when they were like, three years old.

            When Hope spoke again, it took Josie by surprise in how soft she spoke, “I hurt so much Josie. I’m _sad_ ; all the time. If normal depression is like this ‘black dog’ that follows you around and falls asleep on you or whatever-the-fuck, I feel like mine is like a sinister _bright_ flower dress I wear every day. I never put it on, but it’s always there, everything else goes on over it. It’s in my dreams, it’s there when I wake up, and even when I’m happy it just taints _everything_ …” she flailed her hands sloppily trying to drive home her point. Josie didn’t say anything. It seemed shitfaced Hope was physically incoherent, but nearly poetic with her introspection.

The youngest Mikaelson inhaled another few swallows of the booze before she continued, eyes glassy, but speech surprisingly succinct, “It looks beautiful too, like, my sad little flower dress full of sunshine and sadness. It fits me _just right,_ it has flair; because of-fucking-course-it-does…but it’s so _horrible_ Josie. If it was just a black dog, I could kill it with fire, put it down. I could _deal_ with it. But it feels like I can’t get this, this _thing off of me_ without setting _myself_ on fire. And sometimes I don’t even care if I burn…my mom burned to death as a vampire you know. She didn't’ even get to die as a wolf. Because of me. And when my dad and uncle _staked themselves for me_ , they burned alive too. That’s how originals, people I _care about_ die…badly.” Hope looked at Josie for a long moment. Both of their eyes were laden with tears.

“Oh, Hope,” Josie whispered, tears spilling over her cheeks. She reached her hand out and laid it on Hope’s thigh in some desperate attempt to comfort her complicated friend.

Hope put her hand on tope of Josie’s. They could basically feel each other’s heartbeats through the minimal contact. Hope tried and failed to collect herself before continuing, “I know that we don’t talk much and your sister hates me. But I just want _someone_ to…I just want…I’m so scared I’ll lose…” Hope’s previous composure was rapidly slipping away.

As the soberer of the two, Josie tried to bring Hope into an awkward hug, but they both sort of fell backwards onto the bed. The unexpected intimacy of their situation raised Josie’s heartbeat considerably. But it did nothing to slow down Hope’s meltdown.

Through Hope’s irregular sobbing and her own increasing intoxication, Josie was having a little bit of a hard time understanding Hope, but she definitely got, “You’re so _precious_ Josie, and I think after I saw Penelope just _emotionally break you_ last year, I held onto some _feelings_ about it. And it all just came out today in the _worst fucking way_ ,” Hope hiccupped. “I’m so sorry Josie. I, I can’t even _talk to you_ without blitzing my brain with _poison_. But I don’t think I could live with myself if something happened to you, and I could’ve done some thing about it, I really like you. And now I’ve just ruined _this too_. I,I,” Hope feebly tried to get up, some part of her was aware of how much of her soul she just bared to Josie. She didn’t get very far with Josie’s trembling arms around her though, pulling her back down.

Hope didn’t really try to fight it. When Hope’s head was laid down on a warm surface that _pulsed,_ it somehow calmed her. She felt Josie stroking her hair, and it hazily reminded her of how she felt as a kid when her mom or Keelin, or Freya would calm her down from one of her nightmares. Josie’s heartbeat thrumming through Hope’s head along with the gentle repetitive fingers running through her hair felt like _home_. She was asleep before she could hear Josie’s sniffles or feel tears track into her hair.


End file.
